


The Bargain Bin

by banesapothecary (komhmagnus)



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Banter, Crack, Established Relationship, Fluff, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Married Couple, Thrift Shopping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 18:30:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20068615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/komhmagnus/pseuds/banesapothecary
Summary: “You know, even when we lost everything, we never stoopedthislow,” David informs Patrick as they step inside.// or, Patrick makes David go thrift shopping with him





	The Bargain Bin

“What the fuck?”

Patrick laughs.  _ Laughs. _ At him and at the probably ridiculous look on David’s face, but David can’t help it if his face is abhorred by the day Patrick planned for them both.

“It’ll be fun, David,” Patrick says, slipping his arms around David’s waist. It won’t. David knows it won’t. He’s been suspicious of Patrick all day. First, Patrick has been plying him with pastries since the moment he woke up, which is a very dirty tactic David very much approves. Then, he’d suggested they go to Elmdale that afternoon for a showing of  _ 13 Going on 30 _ and dinner at the Italian restaurant they both really like. But Patrick had turned the car down a road David didn’t recognize, and now they’re standing in a parking lot of an establishment that is very clearly not the movie theater  _ or _ the restaurant.

They’re at a  _ thrift store. _ David gapes, feeling overwhelmed with apprehension even as Patrick attempts to distract him. It’s not going to work. David refuses.

But Patrick’s hands are rubbing circles into the small of his back, and his breath is warm and familiar against David’s skin, and— 

“Okay, you’re playing dirty,” David complains as Patrick kisses the side of his neck.

Patrick laughs again, chest vibrating where it’s pressed close to David’s back. The feeling is familiar and sends shivers down his spine. He loves it and he hates it. He really,  _ really _ doesn’t want to give in on this. “Don’t you trust me?” Patrick asks sweetly.

David groans. “You’re evil.”

“And you’re going thrift shopping with me,” Patrick says, pulling away quickly and sauntering towards the door.

“I would rather only buy clothes from Blouse Barn for the rest of my life than do that,” David insists, but he’s bluffing and Patrick knows it.

Patrick tugs on his hand. “Come on, David. It won’t kill you.”

“Mm, I wouldn’t be so sure.” But he follows behind his husband, because Patrick is right. He does trust him. Even if he would rather spend the day taste-testing potential new menu items for Twyla. “What kind of name is ‘The Bargain Bin,’ though?” David asks, looking skeptically at the name printed on the door. “It sounds like we’re actually dumpster diving.”

Patrick shoots him a look as he opens the door, but his quiet chuckle diminishes the effect. “After you,” he says, holding the door open and gesturing for David to go ahead.

“You know, even when we lost everything, we never stooped _this _low,” David informs Patrick as they step inside. It’s exactly what expects: the smell of mothballs, the terrible fluorescent lighting, rows and rows of other people’s thrown away, off the rack clothing.

Living in Schitt’s Creek has changed David a lot. He knows it has. But still he feels like his fight or flight reflex is kicking in, and if Patrick wasn’t right next to him, David would probably be halfway to that Amish farm. Assuming he remembers how to get there. (He doesn’t.)

“It’s not about ‘stooping low,’” Patrick argues with what David considers to be completely unnecessary and rude air quotes. “It’s about the search. You have to go through all the crappy things to find that one perfect item. It’s fun.” 

“Sounds like a lot of work,” David mutters. “Gross work.”

Patrick nudges David’s side. “Oh, come on, David. Where’s your sense of adventure?”

David’s eyebrows shoot up on their own accord. “I think you’re confusing me for, I don’t know, literally anyone else.”

“This is coming from the man that carried me up an actual mountain,” Patrick retorts. He starts searching through a rack of color-sorted t-shirts—the blue section, of course, David notices with an eye roll—and David fights back the urge to retch.

“See, but that was romantic, and this,” David says, pausing as he stares in horror at an acrylic painting of what appears to be a  _ foot massage. _ “This,” he continues, louder and gesturing wildly at the painting, “is  _ not _ romantic.”

“No?”

David’s mouth curves into a grimace as he frantically tries to find  _ anything else _ to look at. He spots a DVD section in the back and stares at that instead, trying to read the titles without having to step closer and therefore further into the store. “Nope, definitely not, babe.”

“Not even a little bit?” Patrick asks, suddenly a lot closer. 

David jumps as Patrick’s warm breath tickles his skin and his arms come around David’s waist. “What are you doing?”

“Hey, Macklemore,” Patrick whispers in a deep voice that would’ve sent shivers down David’s spine if he wasn’t too busy wishing he could sink down into the floor and die at that exact moment. “Can we go thrift shopping?”

“Oh my  _ god, _ ” David groans. “Are you—I’m divorcing you,” he says, pulling out of Patrick’s arms and glaring. 

“That’s a shame,” Patrick sighs. “At least I can buy that cheap suit to wear at my second wedding,” he says in a deadpan, pointing to a suit hanging on the wall behind the register.

David stares at him, squinting his eyes as he tries to decide how serious Patrick is being. He decides on  _ not serious at all _ and reaches out for Patrick’s hand, thumb brushing over the ring on his fourth finger. “On second thought, I think I’ll keep you,” he says, wrinkling his nose at the suit that appeared to be at least ten years out of date.

“Are you keeping me just so I don’t have to wear a secondhand, tacky suit?” Patrick asks. “How generous of you.”

“No,” David answers, shaking his head. He takes a deep breath, focusing on Patrick’s face and  _ not _ his current environment. “Like you said, I had to search and search, and it sucked, but I finally found something perfect for me that I love, and I’m not letting you go  _ that _ easily.”

The teasing glint in Patrick’s eyes falls away, replaced by something softer. It’s the same look he had when David first told him he loved him. It’s the look that steals David’s breath away every time. It’s the look that says  _ I can’t believe you’re real, I can’t believe I get to love you. _

Patrick closes the distance between them and pulls David into a soft kiss, cupping his cheek and resting their foreheads together when they pull apart. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” David whispers. The words get easier every second of every day, no longer needing to be pushed off his tongue, but rather tumbling out almost unintentionally whenever it comes to Patrick. He can’t help it, and he doesn’t want to. Not anymore. He’s not afraid.

Patrick smiles at him like David gave him all the stars and clouds and every ounce of life in the universe. David thinks it’s the other way around. “So,” Patrick says softly, breath ghosting across David’s lips. “Does that mean you’ll go thrift shopping with me?”

“Not a chance in hell,” David says, pulling away abruptly to leave the store. Patrick’s laughter follows him all the way to the car.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are appreciated 💖  
You can find me on Tumblr and Twitter @banesapothecary!
> 
> also big thank you to Megan (@brewrose) for beta-ing this fic and suffering through the cursed Macklemore reference 😂


End file.
